


I Wanna Be Yours

by kellbelle



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Awkwardness, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Masturbation, Naive Hawke, Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-19 08:55:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12407199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kellbelle/pseuds/kellbelle
Summary: A really awkward Hawke catches Fenris in the act.





	I Wanna Be Yours

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying to get over my writer's block and came up with this utter trash. Hope you like!

If she wasn't going to the Wounded Coast, she probably wouldn't have even bothered dropping by. Going to Fenris' mansion was always an ordeal for many reasons. For one, she was a nervous wreck around him. Not to mention she could barely even say a word to him without stuttering.

Truth be told, Fenris was the most beautiful man she had ever laid eyes on. Of course, he thought that she hated him. Her awkwardness had apparently been mistaken for disdain, as Isabela had tried explaining to her, and now it was up to her to try and explain herself and assure the poor man that he couldn't be farther from the truth.

Hawke admired Fenris, outside of his god-like appearance. Not many people could survive the ordeal Fenris had been forced to endure by the hands of his master. Although he was wary of her kind, he was passionate in his opinions. He fought slavers with a righteous fury reserved for only them and she couldn't help but be swept away by his convictions. The elf was far more intelligent than he let on, hyper-aware of his surroundings and well-versed in several languages.

What could she possibly say to convince him of her respect for him? He would only believe she was speaking in jest. Perhaps she had gained a reputation for her sarcasm, but when it came to Fenris she wasn't anything but sincere. No one else could make her heart flutter wildly with just a glance in her direction. She _never_ stuttered and squeaked around anyone else, because she did not fear anyone. Not even the Arishok had made her as nervous as Fenris did.

The sun had fully risen in the sky by the time Hawke cautiously knocked on the door to his “borrowed” mansion. She listened carefully for any signs of movement in the home, yet none came after several minutes. Hawke sighed and knocked a bit louder this time. Still nothing.

Suddenly, she recalled a conversation she'd recently had with the elf about not trusting visitors who knocked. Perhaps, he thought her to be some guard or merchant. With that thought in mind, she gently pushed open the door and stepped inside. To say the mansion was a mess was a bit of an understatement. The windows had been boarded shut, leaving little light to seep in through the cracks. Cobwebs hung from every corner, a layer of dust covered each surface, and broken bits of furniture from their first fight in there lay scattered along the floor.

“Fenris?” Hawke called out hesitantly. There was no response. Maybe the man had taken another job, or gone to see Aveline, or –

A single creak from up the stairs caught her attention and she shrugged. _Maybe Fenris didn't hear me,_ she thought to herself as she carefully moved up the steps to greet him. The door to his room was left cracked open, with a light from the fireplace assuring her of his presence. Braving a smile and trying to ignore the trembling in her knees at just the thought of speaking to him, she approached.

Fenris was indeed in the room, sitting upon a chair by the fire with his head lolled back against the headrest. His chest was bare, exposing light markings against his dark skin, a sight she had never seen before. His hand was tucked – _wait_.

To her horror his trousers had been unlaced, with his hand wrapped around his thick cock. His eyes were shut, his hand stroking up and down. A groan escaped him, his body twitched before falling back against the chair. “ _Hawke_ ,” he pleaded, so low she almost swore she couldn't hear it.

Her hand flew to her mouth in disbelief. She should not be here, this was a private moment that she shouldn't dare intrude upon. He would be mortified, he would never speak to her again if he caught her gawking there like some lecherous pervert. “Marian,” he said with a sigh and another quiet moan. In case she hadn't been sure just who he had been thinking of before, she certainly was now.

Despite herself, she couldn't help the thrill that sang through her body at the sound of her name on his lips. He was thinking about her out of all people, what could she have done to deserve this? The revelation that she wanted him, needed him, overwhelmed her and she stumbled back. The sight of him moaning and moving, picturing her pleasuring him was going to kill her.

_Maker's breath_ , Hawke carefully moved back as quietly as she could manage. She made her escape silently, begging the Maker to not let him hear her as she finally fled into Hightown. She made a beeline for her house, ignoring the surprised exclamations from her mother and Bodahn as she locked herself in her room and disappeared under her sheets. How could she possibly bear the Wounded Coast after witnessing something so intense? No, she needed time to process... whatever you could call such a display. Did Fenris have feelings for her?

Isabela had told her before that some people like to picture their friends to get off and that it doesn't necessarily mean anything. Of course being that Isabela cannot help herself, the pirate went into great detail about all the compromising positions she had imagined herself and Anders and even Varric in. After that, Hawke stopped listening for her own sanity. Yet, maybe Fenris was only thinking of her for fun. It didn't mean he could have such feelings for her. She was, after all, a mage.

Staying in bed all day wasn't exactly going to help anything, for no matter what she could not stop thinking of Fenris and his beautiful cock. She desperately needed a drink and a friend, and with that in mind she fled for the Hanged Man.

* * *

 

“Isabela!” Hawke shrieked, barging into the pirate's room without bothering to knock. Usually at around sunset, the woman in question didn't have a bed partner. Yet.

“Maker's breath, Hawke, why are you being so loud?” Isabela lamented from the bed, shielding herself with a bed sheet from the sudden light pouring in from the hallway.

“I don't know what to do,” Hawke continued speaking, slamming the door shut behind her and collapsing beside Isabela on the bed. “Fenris...”

Isabela bolted up at the sound of his name, sitting upright to smirk mischievously down at her. “Don't tell me you and the broody elf finally did something about all of that tension.”

“Er... no, I mean, I was going to see him this morning and then when he didn't answer the door I walked in and heard a noise upstairs and then when I went to check on him, he was there! He was just sitting there, with his shirt off and his trousers undone–”

“I heartily approve of where this is going,” Isabela interrupted, her smirk turning absolutely fiendish.

“He was thinking about me. I heard him say 'Hawke' and then my given name, so there's no way it was about Carver or anything, and I ran out of there like a fool. He is going to kill me Isabela, there is no way I am going to survive his wrath,” Hawke finished with an agonized groan, throwing her arms over her face and curling into Isabela's side.

It was several moments before Isabela began to speak, her voice incredulous and full of amusement. “I fail to see the problem. You have confirmation that the elf has the hots for you and you're losing it?”

When she put it that way, Hawke sounded even more pathetic. “You don't understand. He doesn't like me, I'm a mage and even if he did like me, what if I accidentally hurt him? I can't stop thinking about him, I'm just a blubbering mess whenever he's near me. I don't know how to control myself around him,” she tried to explain desperately.

“Kitten,” Isabela said with a sigh, brushing back Hawke's dark hair from her reddened face. “Everyone who has eyes can see that Fenris likes you. I don't think you have anything to worry about. Maybe it's time you make your move, show him how you really feel.”

“Is it really that simple?”

“Fenris won't bite. Or he will if you're lucky,” the Rivaini assured her with a wink. “Now come on, it's Wicked Grace night and I'm too hungover not to have another drink.”

* * *

 

Why, oh why, did Fenris have to sit directly next to her? To be fair Fenris' usual spot was beside Hawke to avoid Isabela's hands. She could feel the air of mortification surrounding her, her cheeks were practically flaming red. Fenris himself didn't seem to notice, but Varric sure did and the dwarf would stop at nothing to weasel an explanation out of her.

“So, Hawke, I heard you were supposed to stop by the Wounded Coast today?” Varric inquired innocently, peeking from over his cards to look directly at her.

“I – uh – decided to postpone until tomorrow,” she answered quickly, before reaching for her ale to prevent herself from saying anything stupid.

“Whatever for? Didn't you say you were going to stop by Broody's place today?” And just like that, she started choking on the ale she had been trying to down.

“Oh not _this_ again,” she thought she heard Anders mutter as violent coughs made her chest heave. She felt her fellow mage's healing magic warm in her chest and suddenly she could breathe again.

“Thank you Anders,” Hawke squeaked out finally, the blush now spreading down her neck.

“What's wrong with you today, Lethallan?” Merrill wondered aloud. Isabela started cackling madly from the other side of the table and affectionately patted the elf's head. Hawke wanted to die.

“You know it's bad when Merrill is more composed than Hawke,” Aveline chimed in.

“Spill it, Hawke. Why are you being so weird?” Varric insisted and she shot up out of her seat.

“Nothing! I just remembered I left Joey in my room, I better go check on him,” Hawke mumbled but knew it sounded like utter bullshit but she needed to flee _now_.

Indeed, she did flee, running out of Lowtown like a crazy woman. She couldn't possibly face him, she was an open book in front of her friends and she was a bumbling idiot in front of Fenris. Hot tears streamed down her face and she angrily scrubbed them back with the sleeve of her mage's robes.

“Hawke, stop!”

His voice made her freeze on the steps leading into Hightown. She whirled around, her hand nervously running through her hair while she fought to retain balance. The elf caught up to her, stopping only on the step below her's. His snow-white hair fell back as he titled his head up to look at her. His eyes, so green and wide, full of concern locked onto her and she felt positively helpless under his gaze.

“Fenris?” She asked quietly, wondering why in Thedas he decided to chase after her.

“I... know about what happened earlier. I heard you leave meaning you must have heard me,” the elf began, his voice rough and sounding uncharacteristically nervous. Her breath caught in her throat, knowing this would be the end of her.

“Fenris, Maker, I'm so sorry. I should never have barged into your home like that. I didn't even think about it, I didn't even handle this right. I didn't want you to think of me as some creep, I had no idea,” she cried out, her voice caught on a sob as she swiped at more tears with her sleeve. “Please, I couldn't bear it if you hated me. I already know you don't like me but please don't think it was ever my intention to make you uncomfortable.”

During her tearful apology, she noticed his dark brows furrowing. “You're apologizing to me?” The elf asked incredulously.

“Of course I am, Fenris. I barged into your home and I'm so terrible at this,” Hawke explained, trembling when a cold gust of wind crashed against them.

“Hawke, I don't understand why you think I dislike you. If anything I thought today's display would prove the opposite. Honestly I thought you were offended that I was, uh, thinking of you,” the warrior spoke, looking down at his bare feet. For a moment, Hawke thought she could detect a faint blush on his skin.

Without thinking, Hawke said the first thing that came to mind, “I want you to think of me actually.”

When the words fell out, her mouth was left gaping open at her own boldness. Fenris looked back up at her, a single brow cocked and a smirk now playing on his lips. “Oh?”

“Um... I mean to say that I respect you very much Fenris. I like you very much and I don't mind if you think about me,” she corrected herself quietly.

They stared at each other then, a helpless smile quirking at the corners of her own lips. The moonlight illuminated their surroundings, the night was quiet and serene, and Hawke found that for some reason she felt more than content when he looked at her like that. Fenris took her hand in his, never breaking eye contact while placing a gentle kiss on the top of her hand. The feeling of his lips on her skin made her shudder and when he moved to wrap an arm around her middle, she felt her knees buckle.

Her eyes fell shut when he pushed forward, his lips gently taking her's. One hand wrapped tighter around her waist and the other slid into her hair. She barely took notice of the pointy gauntlets catching on her clothing as he claimed her mouth softly. Never would she have expected him to have such tenderness. Her heart was pounding, her entire body weakening as she surrendered to him, giving back just as much as she could take. She clung to him, her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers effortlessly brushing against his bare neck.

The moment could have lasted for hours but it felt only like seconds when he pulled away to look at her. “Shall I walk you home?” He suggested, sounding far more composed than he ought to be. An incredulous chuckle escaped her and she shook her head at her own foolishness.

“I think I'd like that,” she agreed, “but only on one condition.”

“And what condition would that be?” Fenris asked.

“That you keep doing _that_ ,” she breathed out and he smiled.

“As you wish,” he said playfully before he pounced.

 


End file.
